VGHS: The School of Creation and Survival
by Silver Grizzly
Summary: Not all video games are created equal. FPS pros may be the most celebrated gamers, but on the other end of the spectrum are the sandbox artists. And even among them, one game is the most disreputable of all. Can even a master of that block game survive the prestigious VGHS? Meanwhile, familiar players return for the next level, and face the changing world of gaming. Plz review!
1. The Survivor Games Part I

**5...**

My index finger twitches over the left mouse button. On the screen, my character responds, beating the air with a blocky fist.

 **4...**

My stomach's twisted into a tight knot. It always gets like this before big games, and this is the biggest game of my life. I'm pretty sure I'll be shitting diamonds afterwards, judging by the pressure I'm feeling in my gut.

 **3...**

Yellow low-res letters flash across the chat box in the bottom left of the screen, displaying messages from my fellow players to one another. I ignore the taunting intended to infuriate the recipient; only an amateur would be thrown off their game by the juvenile insults and most of the players here are trolling out of habit. Instead, I focus on the countdown.

 **2...**

I breathe in deeply before exhaling. The tension flows out of my body, leaving only calm resolve. I've done this over a thousand times. Who I'm playing against, the stakes of this match, they don't matter. Right now, I'm ready to play the game.

 **1...**

 **START**

The glass blocks around my avatar fall away as a piston pushes me upward. On either side of me, I can see my fellow players emerging from their holding cells as well. There are twenty four of us arranged in a large circle around a collection of chests holding weapons and food. I catch a quick glimpse of several players exchanging glances with one another; clearly they've made alliances before the game even began.

In one smooth motion, I stab the S key with my left middle finger while sweeping the mouse to the side with my right hand. Onscreen, my character turns one-hundred eighty degrees. A double tap of the W key and I'm off, sprinting away from the circle. I quickly cycle through from first person to second, then third person point of view, making sure that I'm not being followed. I didn't have to be worried though; most of my competitors ran into the circle for the loot.

I make a beeline for the forest surrounding the circle, weaving through the trees with practiced ease. Hopefully I can get away before-

 **Aquaboymech was slain by Quakespeare**

Damn, someone's been killed already? These guys are good. A brief thrill of fear flashes through me, threatening to overtake me, but I quash it ruthlessly. I need to stay calm. Aquaboymech isn't a name I recognize, so he's probably not one of the pros. More likely than not he's one of the four amateur rookies who were invited to compete in this after winning the preliminary tournaments.

 **MoneyHaxKid was slain by Flintstoner**

 **CaffeineJunkie93 was slain by Starstorm**

The next two death messages follow one after another. As I suspected, it seems that the more experienced pro gamers are going after the rookies. I have to roll my eyes at the name "CaffeineJunkie93". Gamertags with numbers in them are almost always the sign of a n00b.

 **Galactica was slain by Quakespeare**

Well, that's the first pro to be killed. Right at the two minute mark, too. What a shame, I used to be a fan of Galactica back in the day, but she's clearly past her prime if she's been offed by a minor FPS twitcher like Quakespeare. Then again, maybe Quakespeare managed to get ahold of a bow and arrows. It's unlikely to happen this early in the game, but it's possible the chests in the center had them.

I notice that my hunger meter is only half full now, so I slow down to a walk. I should be far away enough from the spawn that I'll be safe for a few minutes. I select a small tree and begin pounding on the trunk with my bare fist. In real life this would probably result in bruised and bloody knuckles, but within a few seconds a section of the tree disappears, spawning a small log of wood that is quickly sucked into my inventory, appearing in one of the nine slots in my hotbar.

 **Flintstoner was slain by ShatterPoindexter**

 **Punkinhead was slain by Pwnstar**

 **DrZeus was slain by Quakespeare**

The tree only yields two more blocks of wood before only leaves are left. I let the leaves decay on their own, there's more of a chance that fruit will drop that way. I tap the I key, opening up my inventory. There's a two by two crafting grid next to a image of my character, and I drop the three blocks of wood into it, which gives me twelve wooden planks. Four wooden planks filling up the two by two grid provides me with a crafting bench, which will be the most useful item for the time being.

A few quick movements of my mouse later, and I've got a wooden pickaxe and a bunch of sticks. I scan the area around me, and sure enough, there's a small cave opening. I hurry over and mine out three blocks of stone to make a stone pickaxe. Sadly, there's no iron, tin, or copper in the cave, but I mine out enough stone to make a stone axe and a furnace, as well as several lumps of coal.

 **ShatterPoindexter was slain by Starstorm**

The deaths are coming in too infrequently for my comfort. Normally the bloodbath at spawn results in about half of the players dead, but these guys are pros after all. They've probably begun moving out from the circle now, which means I've got to get moving. The leaves from the tree I cut down earlier have all decayed, leaving behind two apples on the ground. I've stayed in one place for too long. It takes only a few seconds to collect my crafting bench and the fruit, and I'm off again.

A few minutes of walking soon brings me to the edge of a small lake, more of a pond really. In the center is a tiny island with a chest. It takes me less than a minute to craft a wooden boat, thanks to my stone axe, and I make my way to the island. Granted, I could have swam, but that would have taken longer, and the boat will come in handy if I have to cross water again.

To my delight, the chest contains a steel sword and chain-mail armor. Those'll come in handy. I indulge in a quick moment to organize my inventory. Some might consider it to be a waste of valuable time, but keeping my tools in specific slots can be the difference between losing or winning the game in my experience.

 **Pwnstar was slain by KiSwan**

That's the ninth death so far. I look up at the darkening sky. It'll be nightfall soon, and then the hostile mobs will begin spawning. I'll need to get out of the woods and to open ground.


	2. The Survivor Games Part II

I reach the cave by nightfall. My mad dash away from the map's center has taken me through a desert, which is now swarming with the undead, but I've managed to reach a large hole leading underground. This biome is among the most dangerous to be in even in the daytime, so odds are the other players will stay away. I'm not entirely unscathed however. I took a few good hits from some Spiders and Skeletons, but the string and arrows in my inventory are proof enough of my victories.

Resources are scarce in the desert, and the landscape is entirely devoid of trees, the only vegetation being dead bushes and the occasional cactus. All I've got in terms of wood are about ten logs or so from the trees I've cut down on my way, which translates to forty planks. Still not much. At least the dead bushes give me sticks, so I don't have to waste my supplies. A quick few clicks and I've got torches lighting up the inside of the cave as I block off the entrance with sand. Mobs won't be able to get in, but I've trapped myself in here as well.

For the first time since the game began, I stop to think strategy. Normally, and this is what I've done for the preliminary rounds to get this far, I'd focus entirely on basic weapons and armor, and survive on the go. These battle royale type games don't last long enough for me to need to do anything more than get the best equipment I can scrounge together in a hurry and win fights.

But this is different. Right now I'm playing against pros, people who play video games on a whole other level from me. In straight-up combat, they'd likely destroy me; the rookies were the first to be eliminated in the spawn bloodbath. No, I can't win this game by playing normally, not when the pros can beat me at that.

My path to victory is clear, even if it's a treacherous and uncertain one. I head deeper into the cave, marking my path with torches placed along the right hand wall. This way, I always know which way heads back to the surface. I ignore the deposits of coal I come across; I can't afford to waste my pickaxe's durability and I have enough fuel for now.

 **Waterpepper fell from a great height**

Now that's a surprise, a pro dying from something as simple as fall damage. If another player or a mob had knocked them off a cliff or something, the chat would have specified, but the message means that Waterpepper just fell to their death. I guess even pros make mistakes sometimes.

My musings are interrupted my a truly welcome sight: flecks of orangish-brown embedded in the stone of the cave. Copper, one of the two components needed to make Bronze. And as luck would have it, I find the other part a few seconds later: Tin. As I wait for the two ores to smelt in my furnace, I wonder why the game's designer, Scratch, made the tool-making process so complicated. Wood and Stone, the first and second tiers of gear in the game respectively, are simple to obtain and turn into tools, but the third tier, Bronze, requires the player to find two kinds of metal to make. It's not like Tin and Copper are hard to find exactly, but later tier ores require Bronze to mine, so it's not like I can skip the third tier.

The Bronze has finished smelting into ingots however, and I cannot afford to waste time. It took me longer than it does in normal playthroughs to make a Bronze pickaxe, but considering that I was fleeing for my life for most of the first gameday, I'd say I'm making good progress.

After Bronze is the fourth tier of gear: Steel and Gold. As luck would have it, I come across both at the same time, and am faced with another choice. Both metals will allow me to mine the fifth and final tier ore, but each has its own advantages. Steel tools have high durability but low enchantability, while Gold is vice versa. Gold tools actually have a fairly good chance of natural enchantments occurring upon crafting, and if I could get a Speed enchanted pickaxe, it would shave a few seconds off my time.

I consider my options as I wait for the two to smelt in the furnaces I've set up. There's no guarantee however, that I can get a Speed pickaxe, as that particular enchantment is rare. I don't want to waste my sticks on making both kinds of pickaxes, so I settle for a Steel pickaxe and leave the Gold ingots in my inventory.

 **fat was slain by a Slender**

Ouch. Slenders are probably one of the most dangerous mobs in the game because of their teleportation ability. Tough luck fat.

I estimate that I must be far below the surface by now, at the optimum level for mining the fifth tier ore: Titanium. No doubt there were Titanium weapons and tools in the chests at the center, but I wasn't about to chance that bloodbath. No, this is a much safer method of obtaining the best gear in the game. But I've miscalculated and am down to my last torch. My eyes strain to see the white flecks that mark Titanium ore in the darkness of the cave, the only light coming from the torch held in my off-hand. Could that be-

Yes! I rush over to the ore and hack at it with my pickaxe. It occurs to me that right now I am incredibly vulnerable. At this depth, the chances for mobs spawning is much higher, and because of my focus on getting top tier gear, the only protection I have are the Steel sword and chain-mail chest plate that I found in that chest earlier. I'd better hurry.

Sure enough, almost as soon as I've placed the Titanium ore into my furnace, I hear a wet slapping sound. Slimes spawn at a certain depth in caves regardless of whether or not they've been lit up. The smaller ones are just annoying, but the big ones can deal a surprising amount of damage, and upon being killed split into four smaller Slimes. Inexperienced players will often make the mistake of underestimating the green blobs and get swarmed by them.

"Come on, come on." I mutter under my breath as a fat Slime hops into view. To my horror, the Titanium isn't done smelting yet. The Slime is making its way towards me slowly but surely, and it's big enough that it might pose a problem. I refuse to die to a Slime though. As dangerous as they are, it would still be embarrassing.

Time to put the Gold to good use. With the Slime bearing down on me, I turn to the crafting table and place five Gold ingots in a cross shape. Mentally, I cross my fingers and click on the resulting item. To my absolute delight, the Gold Shield came with a Recoil Enchantment! I switch it into my off hand and press the right mouse button just as the Slime rams into me.

As expected, the Slime is catapulted backwards through the cave, and splits into four smaller Slimes upon smacking into the wall. At the same time, the furnace turns off, signifying that the Titanium is finished cooking. Game on.


	3. The Survivor Games Part III

The sun rises on what I assume is the third gameday, considering how long I spent underground. While I was busy mining and equipping myself, three more players have been killed: KiSwan, R3AP3R, and creampiehole. The first two by other players, and the last one by lava.

I've headed out of the desert in search of other players. I can't afford to stay in the caves any longer, it's better that I go on the move and attack first, rather than playing defensive the entire game.

Part of me wonders if this is a good course of action. Sure, I've got the best gear I can possibly obtain without venturing into the Underworld or Otherworld dimensions, both of which have been disabled for this game. With the added enchantments and all the grinding I did to obtain full Titanium gear, it's likely that I am the best equipped player on the server right now. In any other battle royale, I'd have a very good chance of winning.

But as I've noted before, this isn't an ordinary battle royale. These are pros I'm up against, people I'd have a difficult time against even with a gear advantage. Not to mention, I have no idea what was in the center; for all I know, Quakespeare or Starstorm have enchanted Titanium weapons or armor and that's how they've managed to kill so many. Even if I were able to hit them before they even see me, I'm not confident I'd be able to win.

However, the alternative is sitting in my cave and waiting until the last player comes by and kills me. They wouldn't even have to engage in combat, one strategically placed bucket, and I'd be drowning in lava. That's what I'd do if I were smart, at least-

 **Bumblehoe was slain by nickynack**

 **nickynack was slain by LongShotSilver**

 **LongShotSilver was slain by GamerX**

The three death messages pop up one after another. There must have been a skirmish, and more players have fallen. Seven people left.

 **griese was slain by SparklingAnts**

Make that six. Now that there's only a quarter of the players left, I doubt this game will take much longer than an hour at most. A compass has appeared in my inventory, pointing the way back to the center. No doubt the other players have all gotten one too. The game is coming to a close.

Clearly we're expected to head back to the center and duke it out until just one player's left. That was one of the rules agreed upon before the tournament, that once the compasses appeared in our inventories, we'd return to where we started and fight.

To make matters worse, night is falling again. I'm not too concerned about hostile mobs though. Before I had armor, my main concern was the Skeletons' ranged weapons, but now I can tank them pretty easily. The main problem now is decreased visibility. I can hold a torch in either my main or off hand slot to light the area around me, but then I'll also be visible to other players from a distance, and that's not what I want right now.

So now I'm running about a forest in complete darkness, with nothing but the compass to guide me. I just hope I don't walk off a cliff by accident. That would be embarrassing, to have survived this long only to die from falling.

Every time a player is injured in-game, there's a very distinctive grunting sound that plays very loudly. I'm not proud of it, but I jumped when I heard the familiar noise, and flailed around wildly with my sword for a second or two. My health bar is still full though, so it wasn't as though I was attacked by a mob.

I hear another grunt, this time accompanied by the weird slithering noise that spiders make when you hit them, and immediately shift into a crouch, holding my shield at ready. I strain my eyes to see anything against the black of the nighttime landscape, and sure enough, a player's name tag is weaving about, clearly trying to evade through the trees. I can't tell who it is, they're running about too quickly, but the noises are getting louder and the player coming closer.

I decide to take a chance, and bring out a torch. Immediately, I can see the other player running through the forest, with two spiders hot on his trail. He or she occasionally turns back to strike at the spiders with a Steel sword, and actually manages to kill one.

However, my sudden light source has alerted the other player to my presence, and they veer off deeper into the forest, away from me. The player must have sustained enough damage from the spiders to consider me as a threat. I don't realize until later that I must have been rather intimidating, decked out as I was in full Titanium gear.

The time for secrecy is over, and I dash forward in pursuit of the other player. Under normal circumstances, I wouldn't have bothered, as I'd likely never catch them. Right now though, I know the odds are in my favor. They've been injured by the spiders attacking them, and have already been running. No doubt their energy must already be somewhat reduced, and it'll only deplete further as long as they keep running and regenerating health. If they try to eat to restore their energy, they'll have to slow down even more. I had full energy when I started chasing them. The math is simple; the other player will run out of energy to run before I do, and it's only a matter of time before I catch up to them.

And catch up I do. The other player and I have left the spiders far behind, sprinting as fast as we are. My quarry has led me out of the forest and into a flat savannah. My energy is only a quarter of the way emptied, but all of a sudden, the other player slows to a walk; their energy is spent. I close the gap between us in a few bounds just as they turn about to face me.

I've put away my Gold shield; I don't want to knock the other player away, I want to keep them in range. Now, I'm holding my Steel sword in my off hand, and my Titanium sword in my main. Using both will allow me to offset the cool down time on my attacks, though as far as combat strategy goes, that's as complicated as it gets.

I mash the left mouse button as I bear down on the other player with both swords. To their credit, they try to fight back, hitting at me with their own sword and circling me in an evasive movement. Though with low energy, that doesn't have much effect, and I'm attacking almost twice as fast as they are. They don't stand a chance, and with one final swing of my sword, the other player explodes into a shower of blue pixels and random items, most of which are sucked into my inventory automatically.

 **Butterbar was slain by Kylemagne**

Well, that's sure to get the other players' attention.


	4. The Survivor Games Part IV

**Butterbar was slain by Kylemagne**

We're down to just five players now: GamerX, SparklingAnts, Starstorm, Quakespeare, and myself. To be honest, it doesn't feel entirely real that I've been able to survive this long, especially against pros. Granted, I haven't done a lot of the fighting myself, and spent most of that time grinding for my current gear, but being able to avoid the other players is an achievement in itself, and I've managed to kill Butterbar, who's no slouch when it comes to PvP.

Truthfully though, I'm not sure I can win this. I got lucky with Butterbar, what with him being injured by Spiders before I managed to finish him off. I seriously doubt that I can replicate such a feat with any of the remaining players, especially not SparklingAnts or GamerX. They're not the top ranked gamers on Viewtube without reason.

So you might be wondering then why I'm still headed back toward the center. If I can't face the pros, why run towards them? If I head away from center, or hide somewhere, my chances of survival are much greater. Who knows, I might get extremely lucky and win because whoever's left gets killed by a Slender or something.

The thought actually makes me hesitate. I've been lucky from the very start of this game. No one attacked me when I was running away from spawn, I managed to get to a cave where I was able to grind my way to the best gear, and the one other player I've had to fight was weakened first by hostile mobs. What's not to say that I might be fortunate enough to get to first place without even fighting?

I pan my POV around to look at the mountains to the south of the map center. If I were to hide out on the top of one of those, I'd have a clear vantage point of anyone approaching, and could run away before they got to me. It would just be a matter of running and surviving until I won... But would that really be a win?

It would be the smart thing to do, probably. Starstorm and Quakespeare are sure to be knocked out, especially against the major leaguers. I'll at least be third place. But there's no reason to play cheap to get a higher spot on the leaderboard; this tournament is an unofficial one, meaning that it won't affect the competitors' point rankings.

If I'm being honest, I'd rather go out fighting than to wait for the end in a cave somewhere. I know I have next to no chance of beating the others in a straight fight. Even so, that doesn't bother me so much. I've already made it so much further than I expected to, and that's really why I tried out for this tournament to begin with. To play a good game.

I'm so lost in my own inner monologue that I very nearly walk to my own death. My good luck must still be in effect, because I spot Quakespeare while he's facing the other direction, and hide behind a nearby tree just in time. He's standing in the center of the clearing that we all started in, on top of the pile of chests in the middle. Just as I suspected, he's got a bow, which would've allowed him to play to his strength in FPS. The bow itself is glowing slightly, a sign that it's been enchanted.

Quakespeare's looking around seemingly randomly, making sure that no one can sneak up on him. It's a solid strategy, as from where he's standing, he's got a perfect view of the surrounding area, and can shoot anyone approaching full of arrows, unless they've got a shield. If someone does manage to make it all the way through to the point of melee, he's still got the high ground. Unless you've also got a ranged weapon, Quakespeare is essentially untouchable.

As it turns out, I do have a spear. I'm absolute shit with a bow and arrows, always have been terrible at FPS, so I didn't bother to craft one earlier, but I did make a spear because I had a spare Steel ingot. I'm glad I did, because it's going to be central to my plan. A very stupid, possibly deadly plan, but if it works, I'll get another kill.

I wait until Quakespeare's back is turned, then run into the clearing. I take aim, and throw my spear just as he turns around to face me. Amazingly, he manages to get a shot off just before my spear hits him, but I had my shield ready. Unfortunately, I don't manage to hit Quakespeare in the head, which would have killed him instantly, but the force of impact knocks him off the pile of chests.

The default number of health points in Buildblock is ten. Quakespeare only has a Bronze Chestplate for armor, which would bring his overall health up to about fifteen points. The spear was thrown at full power, so it would have dealt about five points of damage, combined with another two to three points from the fall, depending on where he lands. That means he's got seven or eight health points left, and every hit from my enchanted Titanium Sword deals seven points of damage. I've got this.

I circle around the chest pile just as Quakespeare seems to be recovering. He quickly fires off another arrow at me, but I manage to bring up my shield again. Unlike with Butterbar, I need this defense. It pays off, as the arrow bounces off my shield and ricochets back at Quakespeare. Gotta love that Recoil Enchant.

Before the FPS main can get off another shot, I close the gap between us. One swing of my sword, and the other player shatters like Butterbar.

 **Quakespeare was slain by Kylemagne.**

A lot of Quakespeare's items have been sucked into my inventory, and I quickly take a look to see if there's anything worth taking. I claim some random bits of food, but most of his gear was trash compared to mine. His bow though, is one of the most powerful I've ever seen, with Power V, Expel III, Fire, and Infinite Enchantments. No wonder Quakespeare managed to take out so many players. I'm tempted to just take it, but I know if I keep it, I'll want to use it, and like I said before, FPS isn't my forte, so I chuck it back with the rest of the unusable items and burn them with a bucket of lava I have handy.

 **Starstorm was slain by GamerX**

Wow, down to the final three. I guess I did make it this-

 **SparklingAnts was slain by GamerX**

Holy hell, that was fast. I don't know if Starstorm and SparklingAnts were in a team or something, or if GamerX found the two of them close to each other, but either way, he just killed both of them less than five seconds apart.

I've got my spear back, so I have a ranged weapon I can use to copy Quakespeare's strategy. I'm about to start climbing the pile of chests when GamerX bursts into the clearing. I stare in shock at the other player, who's in-game avatar is pitch black save for two red slashes across his chest and face, forming the letter X. He's just taken out two other pro players and now he's about to end me. So I do the only rational thing.

I run.


	5. The Survivor Games Part V

Looking back, I'm still not sure why GamerX didn't just shoot me in the back while I was running. It wasn't as though I was dodging or weaving, I was just sprinting as fast as I could in a straight line. Even immediately after the game, I wasn't sure what was his reasoning for not attacking such an easy target. Even if he thought shooting me with his bow would just give push me forward, it makes no sense if he were trying to win.

At the time however, I wasn't thinking about any of these things. I'd only managed to defeat Butterbar and Quakespeare because I'd gotten the drop on them, while GamerX had presumably taken on both SparklingAnts and Starstorm in straight PvP and beaten them, since that's his preferred style. The man was a legend, having gotten nearly ten million subscribers on Viewtube in the span of about two years, becoming the most popular gamer on the website. He's pretty much unbeatable in any video game, and widely regarded as the greatest gamer in the world. He's also the host of this tournament. Did I mention I'm a fan?

So here I was, being pursued by a celebrity gamer that I looked up to, and was absolutely intimidated by. It's a wonder I didn't just give myself up in my panic-induced state. As it was, I did slip up, though GamerX didn't capitalize on it. After about five seconds of running, my instincts kicked in, and I began zigzagging to avoid getting shot. And just in time too, seeing as how an arrow flew past my head as soon as I began moving from side to side.

Unfortunately, I was running out of cover, as I could see the edge of the forest coming closer and closer. However, the landscape beyond, a barren desert, does look familiar. The seeds of an idea form in my head. It's a crazy plan, but if it works...

Once I'm out of the trees, I toggle my POV from first to second, looking behind me to find GamerX not far behind me. I'm sprinting as fast as I can, holding down the space bar to jump with every step. Carefully timing my movement, I slide my mouse several inches to the right as I take my next step, spinning a full three hundred and sixty degrees as I jump. In a fraction of a second, I take the lava bucket in the last slot of my hotbar and place it down just behind me.

As I bound forward, a source block of lava spreads rapidly, forcing GamerX to veer to the side to avoid being burned. Frustrated, he takes a potshot at me with his bow before taking up the chase again, but I've got a good head start now. Gotta be careful though, my energy bar is down to nearly half.

Soon enough, a familiar looking cave among the dunes comes into view. I make a beeline for the entrance, and follow the torches I'd left behind, breaking them as I go. Hopefully, any mobs that spawn in the darkness will slow down my pursuer, not that I expect any of them to be able to take him out.

Admittedly, this is a flawed plan. If GamerX puts down enough lava source blocks, they'll flow down the cave system and eventually burn me to death. However, I'm counting on him to chase me instead.

Sure enough, GamerX's footsteps approach as I press myself against the wall of the deepest part of the cave, with just a single torch lighting up the place. As I wait for the pro, I munch on a piece of bread, restoring my energy to full.

The very instant he steps into the light, GamerX takes aim with his bow and fires. If I hadn't put up my shield in time, I would've been toast. He advances, firing at me with his bow over and over again. It slows down his progression forward, but it keeps me from being able to attack. The arrows are bouncing off haphazardly, but the durability on my shield is getting lower and lower. Shit, is his plan to wear down my shield completely and then shoot me to death? My plan depends on him chasing me.

Just as his latest arrow bounces off my shield, I turn and flee to the side, to where a clear exit has been excavated. I'd made this escape route during my stay in this cave, in case I'd been cornered-

THWACK

Suddenly half of my health bar drains. Even with the extra ten points of health granted by my armor, the arrow is devastating. Not only did GamerX get a perfect head shot, his bow must be fully enchanted to the max. To make matters worse, the injury has dealt me the Stun effect, making me unable to run. I watch helplessly as GamerX sprints forward, switching to a Titanium Axe. He leaps toward me, ready to deal the killing blow...

And plummets into a pit of lava as the floor opens up underneath him. To add insult to injury, several blocks of Dynamite fall as well, exploding as they land. Even with his gear, which is equal to mine, GamerX doesn't stand a chance.

BOOM

BOOM

BOOM

Somehow, impossibly, he's managed to survive the explosions. I look down at the pit to find GamerX standing on an island of Obsidian. He must have placed down water just in time to avoid the lava, though the Dynamite would still have damaged him. Time to end this though. I take my spear, and throw it into the pit.

 **GamerX was slain by Kylemagne**

I came this close to being killed by GamerX. If he'd kept shooting me with his bow, or noticed the tripwire I set up on the floor of the cave, he would've ended me. But I've seen enough of his videos to know that he loves the thrill of a chase, and that he knows his opponents tend to panic upon facing him and make stupid mistakes. I was counting on that to make him overconfident enough to kill me in hand-to-hand combat. It was a long shot, but I'm pretty sure I know GamerX well enough to predict his moves. After all, I was his first subscriber.

* * *

Kyle sat back in his chair, rubbing at his eyes. During the last few minutes, he hadn't even blinked because of how intense the game was, and now his eyes were burning. He looked around his dark room, realizing how long he'd been going for. The battle royale had taken three hours. Kyle's roommate was snoring in his bed, oblivious to the fact that Kyle had just beaten a bunch of pro gamers. It then fully sank in just what he'd achieved.

He'd won. Kyle had just won the tournament, the first Survivor Games. Not only that, he'd beaten GamerX, the number one gamer on Viewtube. The boy nearly cheered from the sheer joy of it, but then the chat caught his attention.

 **Aquaboymech has left the game**

 **MoneyHaxKid has left the game**

 **CaffeineJunkie93 has left the game**

 **Quakespeare: HAX**

 **KiSwan has left the game**

 **Butterbar: hax**

 **Flintstoner has left the game**

 **fat has left the game**

 **Quakespeare: no way a n00b liek him couldve beaten GX**

 **Galactica: lol stfu ur just salty he killed u**

 **DrZeus has left the game**

 **Shatterpoindexter has left the game**

 **creampiehole: hes got a point**

 **Quakespeare: lmao 4Q gal you irrelevant hoe**

 **R3AP3R has left the game**

 **creampiehole: how did a rookie beat GamerX?**

 **Galactica: real mature Quakespeare**

 **SparklingAnts: damn GX you really brought your A game today**

 **Butterbar: I LIK CHEESE**

 **Bumblehoe has left the game**

 **Quakespeare: go make me a sandswich women reeeet**

 **Waterpepper: grow up Quakespeare**

 **Butterbar: ASDFGHJKL**

 **griese: wtf butter**

 **LongShotSilver has left the game**

 **Quakespeare: gtfo pep**

 **Quakespeare: and take the haxxor kid wit u**

Kyle shook his head in disgust. Obviously Quakespeare and Butterbar were salty that he'd killed them and were being trolls in chat, but no one else cared that Kyle had won, they were all just arguing. In that moment, he wondered just why he'd been intimidated by the pros, when they were just as immature and stupid as any other gamer.

Kyle looked at the alarm clock on the drawer next to his bed. The red display read 1:23 am. He sighed, realizing there was no point in staying up longer now that the game was over and the other players were all bickering in chat. Not to mention he had school in six hours. He closed his laptop, plunging the room into darkness, not noticing the final message in chat.

 **GamerX: GG Kylemagne**


	6. Overdrift Purgatorio Part I

Ted looked at the boy sitting in front of his desk. "Are you sure you want to do this?"

"It's just a toy car." The younger student snorted. "I don't see why you're being so dumb."

"I'm not dumb, you're dumb." Ted snapped, before holding up a model of a red racing car. "Ahem. I mean, this is no mere toy, young Benjamin."

"I'm only four years younger than you. And I've told you, it's just Ben."

"This is a custom overdrift USB supercar." Ted gazed fondly at his most prized possession, seemingly lost in thought.

Ben Wilson stood awkwardly for a minute watching the Head Drift Racer play with the toy car, driving it around his desk, imitating the revving of V8 engines and squealing of tires on asphalt. Not for the first time since he'd declared his major, Ben wondered if the so-called Drift King of VGHS was all there. "Yo Ted, you still there?"

"Yes!" Ted jumped up, slamming his hand down on his desk and knocking his chair over. Ben flinched at the sudden outburst but Ted was already on the move, striding to the back of the Drift Racers' classroom and dragging him along.

"Ted?"

"Understand this, young Benjamin. What you are about to see is the most sacred treasure of the Drift Racers, one that has been passed down through generations."

"Bruh, you're freaking me out."

"Grab a book." Ted pointed at the nearly empty bookshelf.

Ben looked at his senior with a raised eyebrow. "There's only one book."

"How very observant of you." Ted smiled. "Take it."

Shaking his head, Ben reached out and grasped the single volume on the shelf, a barely-touched copy of _How to Install A Secret Door._ As he pulled it, a mechanical whirring could be heard, and to his surprise, the entire bookshelf slid to the side, revealing a solid metal door. Grinning, Ben went to open it, but stopped when he noticed the keypad on the handle. "Seriously? What was the point of the secret door then?"

"Tradition, my dear child."

"I keep telling you, I'm only four years younger than you!"

"Ah, but those four years make all the difference." Ted winked mysteriously as he punched in the code. The Drift King pushed the heavy slab of steel aside to reveal a darkened room. He beckoned for the younger racer to follow him as he led the way into the chamber. Floodlights snapped on as Ted strode to the very back, where a rather colorful machine sat waiting. The Japanese writing and psychedelic coloring clearly marked it as one of the many entries in the Overdrift racing game series, yet it was like no other Overdrift Ben had ever seen before. Even the kanji was unrecognizable, being beyond what he'd learned in Anime 101.

"Overdrift Purgatory? I've never heard of this game."

With a beeping chirp, the game booth slid open, a mysterious vapor spilling out from the darkened interior. Despite its bright colors and cheerful neon lighting, the machine suddenly seemed almost sinister to Ben. He turned to Ted, who was rubbing his hands together with mischievous glee. "This, Ben, is Overdrift Purgatorio. It was created by the Zen monks of someplace in Japan that I don't remember the name of to be the most bombastic, esoteric, the most extremely supreme-

"Do you even know what those words mean?" Ben deadpanned.

"Do you?" Ted glared at Ben. "That's what I thought. Anyways, if you can beat the game, you win a prize: your own USB supercar."

Ben scoffed. "That's it? All I gotta do is win a race?"

"Indeed."

"Man, what was all the hype for then? And the secret door?" Ben sneered as he moved toward the game. However, Ted blocked his way with an outstretched arm.

"Think about it Ben. You know we Drift Racers have played every Overdrift game available to us, even the latest releases."

"So what's this one then? A bootleg?"

"Nay, if only it were so simple." Ted sighed. "Purgatorio was banned because of a feature the monks programmed in that made it way too hardcore for casuals. Once you enter this game, you cannot leave until you have won."

"But I'm not a casual, Ted." Ben grinned. "C'mon, you've trained me for this. I've beaten every Overdrift game there is! What's one more?"

"People have died because of this game, Ben." Ted said gravely. "This isn't like trashing the Kart Racers; it's a baptism by fire. You're going to see things in Purgatorio that will change you, and not everyone survives the experience."

"All the more reason for me to do it then." Ben replied, matching Ted's tone. "All the other Drift Racers have done it, I can too."

Ted nodded and let his arm fall to his side, clearing the way for Ben to take a seat in the game booth. "Very well. You have my blessing. But before you go, I have but one final question. Did you use the bathroom?"

"I can hold it." Ben held Ted's gaze as Overdrift Purgatorio slid closed with a pneumatic hiss, plunging him into darkness.


	7. Overdrift Purgatorio Part II

Ben really wished he'd gone to the bathroom. According to his watch, he'd been stuck in Overdrift Purgatorio for close to four hours. And aside from that one red car at the beginning, he hadn't beaten a single other car. Ben clenched the steering wheel tightly, the thought of the red Dodge Dart pissing him off. He'd beaten it, fair and square. And yet, when he'd gone to claim it, it had slammed its doors in his face and driven off. Ben had raced against it twice more with the same result before he finally gave up on it, dismissing it as a bug.

"I'll just find another car to beat." Ben reasoned. Red had never been his favorite color anyways. But this had proven much easier said than done. Every car that Ben had raced against since then had beaten him rather handily. It was as though the game could read his movements before he knew them himself, and respond accordingly.

A bead of sweat dripped down Ben's forehead as he jerked his steering wheel to the left, mashing the pedals at the same time. The bend in the road was a tight one, but if he could just-

No!

Ben thumped his head against the back of the seat as he watched his vehicle crash after being cut off by his opponent, a black Gran Torino. Crashing because of an improperly executed drift was embarrassing enough, but the retro car made it even worse. At least the other Drift Racers hadn't seen that one. They already made fun of him as it was because he was the newbie.

 **Continue? YES/?**

If he wasn't so annoyed by the many times he'd seen it already, Ben might have been amused by the fact that the No option hadn't been coded in, leaving the gamer no choice but to continue playing. But by now the novelty had worn off, and he really wanted to rage quit, more than ever before. Too bad that wasn't an option. Gritting his teeth, Ben pressed down on the acceleration pedal, indicating that he wished to continue playing the game.

The inside of the game booth was plunged into darkness for a split second before the all too familiar interior of the default car flickered into being around Ben. It was a testament to how irritated he was that he couldn't even appreciate the full immersion technology of Overdrift Purgatorio, which really was the best racing game he'd ever played.

Next to Ben, a white Ford GT with green racing stripes flashed its blinkers, offering a race. The racer closed his eyes, wondering if this weren't some particularly sadistic dream. Alas, when he opened his eyes, he was still in the game.

* * *

 _It is said by the Zen racing monks of the Hokkaido region that it is the car that chooses the racer, not the other way around. However, these mad monks also created the lethal game Overdrift Purgatorio, so their word must be taken with a grain of salt._

* * *

"Fuck, it's not like I have anything else to do." Ben revved his engine, and the Ford GT responded in kind. The countdown began flashing in front of Ben's windshield, and he took a deep breath.

As soon as the signal to go registered, Ben floored it, pushing the car as fast as it would go. The tires squealed on the pavement for a fraction of a second, but Ben's car leapt forward, flying down the straight stretch of road. To his astonishment, the Ford GT was lagging behind by a significant amount. Perhaps the AI of the game had slipped up. If he could keep up the momentum and capitalize on his advantage, maybe he could finally get out of this game.

The tension in Ben's shoulders made him shake with excitement as he hugged every turn in the course as tightly as he dared, and sped down the straight stretches of the road with wild abandon. This was going to be his victory, he could feel it.

After what felt like an hour of adrenaline-fueled racing, the finish line came into view, less than five hundred feet away. Ben pressed his foot down as hard as he could, enough that he could feel the hard plastic pedal bend a little. This was it. He was finally about to win. Suddenly however, he saw out of the corner of his eye a flicker of movement that shouldn't have been possible.

As Ben whipped his head around, the Ford GT accelerated faster than any car Ben had ever seen. It moved so fast his own car may as well have been standing still. In the blink of an eye, the white and green car closed the gap between them, and blitzed through the one hundred feet remaining before the finish line before screeching to a halt.

"What?" Ben blinked twice before realizing that, in his shock, he had let go of the acceleration and come to a stop before the finish line. Not that it mattered, what had just happened? The Ford GT had just moved faster than was possible, and in the last second possible. Ben estimated that it had reached a speed of nearly 400 mph in the moment it had passed him, which was just ridiculous. Even in Overdrift, cars just didn't go that fast.

Ben took a long, shuddering breath, willing his nerves to calm down. "It's okay, it must have been a glitch. Just a bug that's all." He pushed his car forward, ignoring the notification that he had lost the race and giving the Ford GT the stink eye as he passed it by. "I'll just find another car to beat."

But as Ben drove through the cityscape, something seemed different. At first he couldn't quite place his finger on it, but it hit him that suddenly it was too quiet. He couldn't hear the sounds of cars driving around, save for his own. He might have put it down as a sound bug, but to make matters worse there were suddenly no cars around either.

"What the hell?"

The sound of an engine revving jolted him back to virtual reality, and Ben breathed a sigh of relief. He must have imagined the silence and isolation. Clearly he should have gone to the bathroom. Smiling at his own paranoia, Ben looked over to size up his challenger, only to find the same Ford GT he'd just lost to.

Ben began to laugh hysterically. Of course this damn car would show up. What else would Overdrift Purgatorio do to him? Ben flipped the bird at the Ford GT as he turned away, determined to find another race.

However, as he roamed the streets, Ben was met with the same silence and isolation as before. He hadn't been imagining it, there really were no other cars around. Save for one.

"No..." Ben mumbled. "No... it can't be... NO!" He screamed his rage and frustration at the Ford GT that taunted him with its presence, its very existence. "FUCK YOU!"


	8. Overdrift Purgatorio Part III

Ben watched dully as the Ford GT sped past him for the umpteenth time. Time had lost all meaning, as he'd raced the damn green and white car over and over again, to the point that he'd long since memorized the twists and turns of the streets. He was sure that he could run a perfect race now, even beat the other cars in the game, if only he had the chance. Sadly, since that first loss against the Ford GT, he hadn't seen another vehicle in the entire cityscape of Overdrift Purgatorio.

Idly, the young racer wondered if enough time had passed for Ted to become worried enough to break him out of the machine. At least, he hoped he would. The Drift King might well have forgotten that Ben was locked inside an arcade booth. At least he hadn't lost control of his bladder yet, though Ben knew it was only a matter of time before he wet himself. Wouldn't that be embarrassing when they eventually pried open Overdrift Purgatorio?

For that matter, who was they? No one but Ted knew where Ben was, and it was Friday afternoon, or at least it had been when Ben had entered the game. There was a good chance no one would notice he was gone until Monday when he failed to show up for class, and even that depended on how attentive his teachers were. Could he survive for that long?

Ben remembered reading somewhere that humans could survive up to three weeks without food, three days without water, and three minutes without air. Seeing as how he was still alive, he probably had plenty of air. He was rather hungry, but the real problem was water. Without it, he wouldn't even survive three weeks to starve, and there was no liquid in the dark box. None except for...

Nope. Ben refused to consider the thought. He was not going down that route. He'd sooner call 911.

A ray of hope bloomed in Ben's chest as he considered that last thought. He didn't necessarily have to call emergency services, just Ted or someone else to get him out. He reached for ever-present rectangle in his pocket and froze. His pockets were empty. He must have left his phone in the Drift Racers' classroom, or in his dorm. Either way he was screwed.

To Ben's right, familiar sound of a certain engine revving taunted him. The white and green Ford GT gleamed in the streetlight, beckoning him to race against it, to test his skills and cut his teeth upon the speed-

No! Ben shook his head violently and glared at the car that had become his jailer and tormentor. That was the Drift Fever talking. It was literal madness, throwing himself against an unbeatable enemy in the vain hopes that something might change and he'd be able to win. Maybe the other cars vanishing wasn't just a game-breaking glitch, perhaps this race was meant to replay a hundred times before he would be released from the prison. Though Ben was sure he'd raced against the Ford GT over a thousand times by now.

Ben shifted in his seat, wishing he could just fall asleep. Unfortunately the pressure in his bladder prevented that, and even if he had gone to the bathroom before, the hard plastic that the seat was molded from kept him upright and uncomfortable. Not to mention the Ford GT kept on revving its engines at him.

* * *

 _The "Drift Fever" phenomenon is a well-known and documented variation of the fabled gamer's pride. Most, if not all Racing gamers have been known to feel its effects spurring them on to constantly seek the thrill of a race and the taste of victory. Extreme side effects include visions and hallucinations, but most only experience a drive to win at any cost, and intense anger or sadness upon defeat. There is no known cure for this "Drift Fever" though rumors say that the Zen Monks of Hokkaido found enlightenment in an unusual manner..._

* * *

"Fine!" Ben roared in frustration, pounding the steering wheel. "I'll race you, just stop fucking with me!"

Ben could feel his heartbeat thundering in his ears, and a red mist seemed to cloud his vision as he mashed his foot into the accelerator with as much force as he could. His car leapt forward, speeding down the road, and the Ford GT fell behind again. Good. Now it was out of his sight.

Now that his hated enemy wasn't in his face anymore however, Ben could think more clearly. The drumbeats in his hearing slowly faded as his heart rate returned to normal, and his vision cleared. God, this game was doing a number on him. Oddly enough, the thought brought up a memory of his first day as a Drift Racer.

It was only a month ago, but it felt like a lifetime had passed since that day. Ben had walked into the classroom as bold as brass, challenging the Drift King for his throne. He hadn't thought he could do it of course, Ted Wong was a famous Drifter, but he'd wanted to make a memorable impression. As par the course for such a challenge, he'd had to face off against every Drift Racer, and had come close to winning, overtaking all except for Ted. And he'd been right behind the Drift King too, and for some reason, Ted had left an opening. A gap just between his car and the side of the road that Ben could have driven through to take first place. But it had come at a sharp turn that he just couldn't quite manage, and crashed, ending his race.

Of course, he'd raged after that, blaming the game for his loss. It was a matter of pride after all, and really, the game's controls weren't as responsive as they should have been. But strangely enough, Ted had merely smiled and said, "Lesson number one, kid. You play the game. Don't let the game play you. Welcome to the Drift Racers."

He hadn't understood it very well then, how the hell did a game play the player? As Ben came to know the kooky Drift King better, he dismissed it as one of his ramblings, but for some reason it bothered him now.

Clearly Ted had left that opening on purpose, he'd probably thought to test Ben in some way. Was that what Overdrift Purgatorio was doing to him now by letting him overtake the Ford GT only to have it beat him at the last second? Ben felt his heart begin to race again. If he was right, if this was a test, and he passed, he'd be able to escape finally.

Only... how?

Try as he might, Ben couldn't think of the solution. It was right there, just out of the reach of his thoughts, but the end of the race was coming up, and he was running out of time. He was almost at the point where no matter how fast he went, the Ford GT would speed past him as though he were standing still.

And just like that it clicked.

Ben slammed on the brakes, skidding to a halt just shy of the finish line. He closed his eyes, unwilling to see the white and green car pass him again. And yet... there was no sound of a car whizzing past at incredible speeds, no blinking notification indicating that he'd lost another race. Just silence.

He opened his eyes, and to his left sat the Ford GT. As he watched in astonishment, the white and green monster that had haunted him for so long opened its door, beckoning him to claim it as his new vehicle.

* * *

"So that was it." Ben leaned back and took another bite of canned pizza. "I had to lose in order to win."

"How curious." Ted smiled knowingly. "It's almost as though the game knew you needed to learn to let go of your gamer's pride, and sought to teach you that lesson."

"I dunno about that." Ben took a sip of Beast Energy Drink, letting the caffeine rejuvenate his tired limbs. Holding your piss for seven hours took a lot more out of you than one would think, especially if you were playing a racing game at the same time. "Hey, Ted. Do you think it's possible for a game to know what you're thinking?"

Ted shrugged. "Ki could probably spend hours lecturing you on how sophisticated choice pathways are and whatnot. Games can be very complicated, you know."

"But what do you think?" Ben persisted.

The Drift King leaned back in his chair, pondering the question. "Honestly? I'm not sure. Overdrift Purgatorio tested me too. Like you, I demanded that D.K. let me play the game so that I could have a 'toy car' like all the other Drift Racers. I was so focused on proving that I was just as good as the other racers that I forgot Overdrift Purgatorio was a game. I beat Hellenor so many times but she wouldn't let me hop into the driver's seat until I stopped trying to win and decided to have fun instead."

"You think the racing monks were onto something when they made this game?" Ben asked in a hushed tone. "Maybe they made Purgatorio to test racers, to make them better gamers."

Ted snorted. "Nah, those fools were crazy. I asked D.K. once, what he'd seen in Purgatorio. He kept racing the first car he came across until he finally beat it, even though there were others he could have gone against. I doubt he learned anything from that experience."

"Oh." Ben said, crestfallen. "So Purgatorio wasn't a test or anything? There wasn't anything to get out of it?"

"Well, I wouldn't say that." Ted grinned. "By the way, you've got mail." With a dramatic flourish, he produced a small, familiar looking object from his pocket, handing it to Ben. "Every car should have a name, so think about what you'll call yours."

Ben held a tiny model of the white Ford GT with green racing stripes in his hand. It was surprisingly heavy, being cast from solid metal. He recalled how, countless times, he'd seen the emerald streaks of its painted stripes leaving him in its wake, and knew just what to call it.

"Green Speed."


	9. Field of Fire Part I

"Woodward, Holly." Ace drawled in a bored tone, reading from a clipboard that had only one name on it. It did seem a bit silly, but Calhoun insisted upon following procedure.

"Here!" The only occupant of the room squeaked, her hand shooting into the air, shaking slightly, whether from excitement or nervousness, Ace didn't know. He supposed it was the latter. It usually was, with transfer hopefuls waiting to take the entrance exam for VGHS.

"So I see." Ace raised an eyebrow, surveying the otherwise empty waiting room. It was a miserably gray room, with no windows and just a few scattered plastic chairs. "Well, let's get on with it then. Follow me."

"Yes sir!" Holly jumped to her feet, following the FPS instructor out of the room and into a tiny alcove, a closet really, with nothing but a single desk with a laptop upon it.

"Take a seat." Ace nodded toward the desk. "You have ten minutes to practice. You'll know when it is time."

"Time for what?" Holly, who had been admiring the high-tech laptop, turned around in time to see Ace closing the door behind him, leaving her in darkness, the only light coming from the laptop screen, which displayed the words Field of Fire. "Okay..."

Holly tapped at the keys of the laptop, activating the main menu. She ignored the Multiplayer and Campaign options, which had been grayed out anyways, and selected the tab labeled Minigames. She contemplated choosing the Pit, but decided against it. Speed runs had never been her forte, anyways. Instead, she chose Clay Pigeons.

The screen changed again, and Holly found herself standing in an empty shooting range. In her hands was the standard pistol issued to new players in Field of Fire. She frowned. The pistol was fine, but she preferred to use her own weapon. A quick taps of the keyboard brought her to the settings, where she quickly found the option to download her personal profile. Fortunately, the laptop was connected to the Internet.

 **Username: HollyWood  
Password:*************

The pistol pixellated briefly before elongating into the custom semiautomatic sniper rifle that was HollyWood's favored weapon. "That's more like it." Holly grinned. Her hands, which had been shaking slightly, stilled as she settled her fingers over the controls. "Time to get started."

WHUMP

A volley of clay pigeons were launched into the air, and HollyWood reacted instantly. Her rifle snapped up to her shoulder and spat out a metal hailstorm. One by one, the pigeons exploded into pixels. The last shattered just a few meters above the ground, and HollyWood grimaced. The first warm-up was always the worst. "Too slow. Again."

Another volley flew into the air, and HollyWood took aim. This time, she switched the automatic function off, and looked through her scope. Her vision suddenly zoomed in, the edges of the screen closing in to form a circle with a faint cross-hairs in the center. Only a single clay pigeon was visible now, but HollyWood had already memorized the placement of the projectiles.

None of the clay pigeons even got close to the ground, being taken out at the apex of their flight. Holly leaned back in the hard chair of the desk. She wondered why she'd been stuck in such a tiny room, when suddenly the screen blinked out, leaving her in darkness. Surprised, Holly shrieked softly, and just as suddenly, the laptop turned back on.

But where she had been standing in a shooting range, HollyWood was now in an empty airfield. "What the-?"

 **PiePuppy has entered the game**

 **JumpinJax has entered the game**

 **Rapwnzel has entered the game**

 **GamesDean has entered the game**

 **Moriarty has entered the game**

 **BrianD has entered the game**


	10. Field of Fire Part II

PiePuppy, JumpinJax, Rapwnzel, GamesDean, Moriarty, and BrianD. Holly recognized those names. They were the current lineup of the VGHS Varsity FPS team, one of the finest the school had ever produced, known for their unorthodox methods and close victories. What the hell was going on?

Ace's words came back to her. "You'll know when it is time." Was this what he'd been talking about? A six vs. one curbstomping? Wasn't this supposed to be an entrance exam, not a bloodbath? Under normal circumstances, Holly would have been thrilled to play with the famous "JV team that could" but right now she just wanted to lay down and cry.

It's not fair, she thought as her in-game avatar ran for cover, propelled more out of some instinct than any real thoughts about surviving the fight. Holly had missed the normal entrance exam because she had to help her parents with the harvest. The transfer application hadn't said anything about being hunted by the best FPS players in VGHS!

A round object bounced across the ground in front of her, and HollyWood's eyes widened. Instinctively, she kicked it away and launched herself backwards, away from the grenade, but the explosion still tossed her like a rag doll, draining a fair chunk of her health. She let out an involuntary grunt as she landed hard against the concrete and rolled to her feet, transitioning seamlessly into a run.

Clearly the other team knew where she was. HollyWood panned her POV about in a full 360 degrees, but saw no one. It was just a perfunctory scan, so it was possible that she had missed a spot or two, but she suspected that whoever had attacked first had used a grenade launcher. On the bright side, she still had her favorite weapon equipped. Not that it would do much good, but it provided a degree of emotional support, HollyWood supposed. No, what she needed was a plan of attack.

HollyWood ducked behind a parked car and weighed her options. Field of Fire's Multiplayer Mode had only six maps, one of which was the airfield from the Campaign Mode. This was the one that HollyWood had been dropped into. Unlike in Campaign Mode however, there were no aircraft that she could pilot in order to gain an advantage, and the interiors of the central building were locked off. She'd spawned in on the tarmac, which meant that the other team had the high ground of the Flight Control Building's rooftop.

Just brilliant. Not only had HollyWood already lost a decent amount of her health, she was also at a disadvantage. The only thing going in her favor right now was that no one was shooting at her, which she supposed could mean that they didn't know where she was, and that whoever had launched the grenade earlier had gotten lucky with a potshot.

A sudden burst of gunfire rattled the Jeep HollyWood was hiding behind, and she flinched. So much for not being shot at. She peeked beneath the car and saw a single pair of boots. One person? For now. It wouldn't be long before the rest of the Varsity team converged upon her location and ended her, HollyWood knew.

And to top it all off, the shakes were back.

The immense amount of caffeine currently running through Holly's blood would have been enough to stop a normal person's heart. Holly consumed enough energy drinks on a regular basis to survive the ridiculous surge of energy, but it came at the cost of shaky limbs when not focusing on a video game. It did however, lend her an almost preternaturally fast reaction time, as well as heightened senses.

What this meant was that HollyWood realized, through some combination of her senses, that someone was sneaking up from behind her. In a smooth, practiced motion, she leapt into the air, and the bullet that would have struck her in the head, instead hit her lower body, draining some health, but leaving her alive. As she did so, Holly panned her camera around, took aim, and shot JumpinJax in the head.

 **HollyWood has killed JumpinJax**

Holly gasped. She'd just managed to survive against one of the VGHS Varsity! And she'd managed to kill him with a jumping 180 quick-scope! Her elation was short lived however, when BrianD stepped around a corner and threw a hatchet into her skull.

 **BrianD has killed HollyWood**

 **Match End**

Holly stared at the screen in silence, the light from the laptop illuminating the tiny room that she was sitting in, and the reality of her situation suddenly struck her. The makeup exam had been a farce all along. Why else would they have stuck her in this closet and set her up against the VGHS Varsity Team with just a laptop? Holly wondered if she was on camera right at that very moment, her humiliation being televised for the world to see. Her lip quivered, it was just like middle school again, letting the social gamers' daughter think that she had a chance before crushing her again. She'd thought VGHS would be different but-

Suddenly the door flew open, flooding the alcove with bright light, and blinding Holly. She squinted up at Ace, who stood in the doorway with a small smile on his face. "Congrats kid, you pass." He held out a thick envelope to her, and Holly took it, taking in the VGHS logo stamped upon it.

"I-I passed?" Holly's voice shook. Just seconds ago she'd thought this all to be some cruel prank, but apparently she passed? "But I lost the match!"

Ace shook his head. "Kid, it was a six vs. one, with you against the Varsity team. If you'd won the match, you should be going straight to the pros, not applying to a high school. Hell, you even managed to off JumpinJax, and as dumb as he is, that ain't no easy feat. Most important thing though, you kept your cool even when facing off against people far better than you, and that's what the school wants."

"But... why me? Was I really the only transfer applicant?"

"The only one that had a good enough transcript to get this far." Ace shrugged. "No one else passed the committee, it seems. Welcome to VGHS, kid."

* * *

 **END CUTSCENE**

* * *

 _ **A/N: You didn't think that would last very long did you? Like Ace said, it's the VGHS Varsity team. Holly's good, but she's no Law. It wouldn't have made sense for her origin story to drag on like Kyle's or even Will's.**_ _ **And that concludes the first part of the story. Next time, I promise you'll see more familiar faces.**_

 ** _Speaking of which, VGHS: The School of Creation and Survival takes place roughly three years after the events of the original web series. As you can see, Brian and Ted are still at school (even though Ted's a year above Brian, yes I know), and the JV team has become Varsity. There are more things to be revealed, but those too will be revealed as time goes on. Fun fact: each of the original three main characters made an appearance in the origins of the new three. Brian and Ted are obvious, but Ki is a bit more in the background. See if you can find her._**

 ** _I realize that OCs are not everyone's cup of tea, but bear with me. At the end of VGHS, Brian, Ted, and Ki had pretty much completed their character arcs, in a pretty realistic manner too. Yes, everyone wanted to see more of their favorite characters, but in my opinion, there wasn't a whole lot that you could do to make them grow without first breaking them down again. So that's why when they do feature in this story, it'll be in supporting roles._**


	11. Spawn Point

"Kyle Magnus, please report to the main office. I repeat, Kyle Magnus, please report to the main office." Kyle looked up in surprise upon hearing his name come from the intercom. What was going on?

"Oooh, someone's in trouble." The girl sitting in the desk next to Kyle snickered. "What did you do, Minus?" She sneered, calling him by the nickname most of his classmates used to make fun of him.

"Maybe they're sending him back to kindergarten, so he can play his block games with the babies." Another one of Kyle's peers spoke up, referring to Buildblock. It wasn't exactly a secret that the game was more popular amongst younger kids, and Kyle was about the only student at Hardcore Gaming Academy who actually played it.

Kyle ignored their taunts, packing his belongings into his backpack and standing up. As he walked out of the classroom, he felt a balled up piece of paper bounce off his shoulder. "So long, Minus!" Someone shouted after him, and Kyle slammed the door behind him. His classmates' teasing didn't bother him, most of them were idiots anyways, jealous of his parentage.

Truth be told though, there weren't a whole lot of perks to being born the son of a world famous gamer. Especially when said gamer was the one person who looked down at Kyle the most. He might be almost as good a gamer as Charleymagne, but none of that mattered to the man when his son wasted his time playing "children's games". Kyle shook his head, dispelling all thoughts of his father. Thinking about his old man always put him in a bad mood.

As he made his way down the hallway toward the main office, Kyle wondered what he'd been called in for. Despite his peers' words, he doubted the school was actually going to kick him out. His grades weren't too horrible, he might not care about any other games besides Buildblock, but it was easy enough to get passing grades in most of his classes. Hardcore Gaming Academy, despite its name, wasn't very competitive, just one of many VGHS knockoffs that couldn't hold a candle to the original, both in terms of skill or difficulty.

* * *

The office was as empty as usual, with no one but the receptionist typing away at her computer, no doubt playing Solitaire or something, and a slightly familiar-looking man who seemed to be in his twenties wearing a beanie and sunglasses. Kyle went over to the front desk. "Kyle Magnus, I was told to come here?"

The receptionist looked up at him with an odd expression on her face. "Yes, you have a visitor."

"I do?" Kyle said in surprise. "Who?"

"That'd be me."

Kyle turned around to face the man, who'd gotten up from his seat. "Who're you?"

"Oh, how silly of me." The man smiled, and took off his sunglasses and hat, revealing short, artificially colored silver hair and almost electric blue eyes. "I'm Tyler Xavier, nice to meet you."

Kyle's eyes widened in recognition. He'd seen this man before, in hundreds of videos, on television, and newspaper and magazine covers. "GamerX!" He gasped. "What're you... why..."

To his surprise, the number one gamer on Viewtube looked almost embarrassed. "Ah, it still feels a bit weird being called that IRL. Just call me Tyler."

Kyle gaped. One of the biggest celebrities in gaming was speaking to him as an equal, and asking him to call him by his first name. Had the world gone mad? GamerX, or Tyler rather, turned to the receptionist. "Is there a conference room I can borrow, somewhere Kyle and I can speak privately?"

"Of course, just down the hallway, second door to your right." The receptionist babbled. She flushed slightly, then asked in a slightly smaller voice, "Erm, excuse me Mr. Xavier... if it's not too much trouble..."

"I gotcha." GamerX smiled, brilliantly white teeth gleaming suddenly, and he pulled out what looked like a black playing card with a white X printed upon it. He took a pen and signed the blank backside with a flourish, before flicking it through the air to land upon the receptionist's desktop. The middle-aged lady actually swooned as GamerX strode down the hallway she'd indicated, beckoning Kyle to follow him. Numbly, he walked after the man.

GamerX opened the door to reveal a sparse room with a large desk and chairs around it. "Sit down, Kyle, let's have a chat." Once Kyle had taken a seat, he began speaking again. "So, I bet you're wondering why I'm here, right?"

Kyle began to nod, but then a horrible feeling came over him. "Wait, is this about the Survivor Games? I'm really sorry-"

"No no no, I'm not upset!" GamerX said quickly, shaking his head. "That was really brilliant, how you managed to beat me."

"Oh." Kyle blinked. That had not gone the way he'd expected at all. He'd thought GamerX would be angry, and accuse him of cheating like some of the other pros had. "I mean, I kinda knew how you'd play, I've seen just about all of your videos, and-"

"So did all the other players." GamerX held up his hand to stop Kyle from babbling on any further. "Know how I play, that is. It's nice to hear that you're a fan of my Viewtube channel, but my strategy, or lack of it rather, is pretty much common knowledge. No, what I'm talking about is how you managed to grind out your own gear in a cave while other players found theirs in chests, and then set a trap for me in that same cave. I watched the replay after the match, and how you managed to get all your armor and weapons was absolutely flawless in execution, complete efficiency."

Kyle flushed with embarrassment as he admitted. "I play Buildblock a lot, so I've had a lot of practice with it."

GamerX nodded. "I figured as much. That's actually why I'm here to talk to you. You've heard of Video Game High School, right? Of course you have, everyone knows about it. Anyways, I'm going to be a teacher there starting this semester, and I'm going to be teaching sandbox gaming."

Kyle looked at GamerX with surprise. "Sandbox gaming? That's not one of the majors at VGHS."

"It is now." GamerX grinned. "I made the board of directors an offer they couldn't refuse, and in return for a generous donation to the school, they're expanding their course options. I've always wanted to be a teacher, you see, and this seemed like a good opportunity. Anyways, Sandbox gaming, or rather the School of Creation and Survival, is now going to be a major at VGHS, and the only condition that the board gave me was that I have at least one student enrolled within the school." GamerX leaned across the table slightly and pointed at Kyle. "I want you to be my student."

Kyle was stunned. Suddenly the world seemed to have been turned on its head. Buildblock was probably the most looked-down-upon game in the world, the domain of "autistic children" and "stoned artsy crackheads". But the number one gamer on the Internet, possibly the world, wanted him to major in that game genre at VGHS! None of that made any sense. "But, why me?" He managed after a moment. "I mean, you're GamerX, the biggest celebrity gamer in the world! I don't think you'll have any problems getting students."

To Kyle's surprise, GamerX shook his head. "You'd be surprised. The official announcement hasn't been made yet, but the school itself knows, and a surprisingly few number of students have signed up. In any case, I don't want students who're taking the class because of me, I want students who actually play sandbox games, so that it can become a competitive field in the world of gaming, just like FPS or Fighting. That was actually the point of the Survivor Games, you know. To see if a game primarily based around gathering resources and building could be played at a professional level, and to see if there was any new talent that I could possibly recruit and train as a student. You, Kyle, exceeded all expectations. So, what say you? Would you like to go to VGHS to play Buildblock?"

To that, there was only one real answer. "Hell yeah!"

* * *

"Whatcha doing, Minus?"

Kyle looked up from where he was packing his suitcase. He hadn't bothered to bring a lot of clothes to HGA, so there wasn't a whole lot, and he was almost finished. His roommate, W4RD0G3, stood in the door, grinning stupidly. Kyle had never bothered to learn the FPS jock's actual name, as he'd introduced himself as such, and only answered to his gamertag. The dude was a dick anyways, so it didn't matter. "What does it look like I'm doing? I'm moving out."

"Ha, you finally rage quit?" W4RD0G3 smirked. "It's about time, everyone in the school knew you wouldn't last long."

"I wonder why." Kyle rolled his eyes. "I mean, it's not like everyone at this school is an asshole, right?"

"Brad and I had a bet going whether you'd make it through the first month. Guess I win." W4RD0G3 didn't even seem to be listening. "Hey, are you sure you're Charleymagne's kid? How does your dad feel about you being such a loser you couldn't even last a month at gamer school?"

"Calling you guys gamers is a bit generous." Kyle shut his suitcase with a snap, and picked up the backpack that held his gaming laptop and other gear. "I'd say cancerous shitheads is a bit more accurate. Anyways, I'm not rage quitting, I'm transferring. I'm going to VGHS, by the way." He waved the thick envelope that GamerX had given him after their meeting, the famous blue and yellow VGHS logo catching the light and shining brightly. "Have I mentioned that they now have a major for sandbox gaming? So I'll be playing my 'baby block games' at VGHS." Kyle grinned widely at the look on his former roommate's face. "See ya, W4RD0G3."


End file.
